


My New BFF

by MotleyMoose



Category: Galavant - Fandom
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Goofiness, There! There's a bear!, Where's a bear?, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:24:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9601235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotleyMoose/pseuds/MotleyMoose
Summary: Richard tries to make friends with a bear.





	

Roberta knew that her husband could be a bit, well, silly at times. It was one of the things that attracted her to him all those years ago. He was just so adorable whenever he became excited about something, whether it was teaching Tad Cooper to carry a rider or finding out that unicorns were no longer drawn to him. His kindness and curiosity were also endearing, but they could (and quite often did) turn out to be dangerous to himself and those around him.

"Um, Richard, dear. What on earth are you doing?" Roberta's voice cracked slightly in exasperation as she stopped at the edge of the wood that bordered the castle grounds. She was sweaty and covered in dust from shoveling out the stables and wasn't in the mood for any of his shenanigans.

"Oh, hello, darling! I was just teaching this bear cub to dance!" Richard stated proudly as he beamed at his fierce wife, a roasted chicken leg dangling from his hand above the black bear's nose. The cub whined grumpily as it swatted at the hovering meat.

Groaning inwardly, Roberta pasted a strained smile on her face and forced all the cheerfulness she could into her voice. "My sweet, don't you think teasing a lone bear cub is a bit, um..." she paused, searching for a word that wouldn't call him an idiot outright. It didn't come to her. "Daft?"

Whistling encouragingly at the increasingly annoyed cub, Richard hopped about, waving the chicken leg enticingly. "Pish tosh! Bears are made out of kittens!"

The black bear slumped to all fours, cocking its head as it looked up at the bearded king. Taking it as a sign of progress, Richard beamed disarmingly at it and tossed the chicken leg to it. Snapping it out of the air, the young cub set to work gnawing the meat from the bone.

"See? Totally harmless little bugger!" Richard exclaimed, kneeling down beside the feasting cub and ruffling its ears. Growling a warning, the bear cub turned away from the king and continued to devour the chicken leg. Still smiling, Richard scooted back a couple paces, his eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

Shaking her head, Roberta gazed past the duo, watching the trees for any signs that something large and toothy was headed their way. Nothing seemed amiss after a few minutes, but she remained on guard when she turned back to her husband and the cub. "Really, darling. I think we should return the cub to where you found it. Its mother must be looking for it." She took a few steps toward him, her hand casually resting on the long rapier in her belt.

Richard straightened up, flipping his curly grey hair dismissively. "Its mother won't miss it, if that's what you're worried about. I found it wandering the forest all alone." Sighing, he stuck out his lower lip and peered at his wife through his eyelashes. "Can't we keep it? Please?"

Knowing she'd lose the battle if she didn't put her foot down right then, Roberta put her hands on her hips and stubbornly stared her husband down. "No. You will put. It. Back." Brow furrowed in what she hoped was a menacing look, she growled, "Now, Richard."

Gazing forlornly between Roberta and the cub, the king sighed again. Turning, he took a leather satchel from a forked tree branch and pulled out another chicken leg. "C'mon, little cub! Let's take you to your mama!" he coaxed, waggling the meat in front of the young bear as he backed farther into the woods.

Yipping in excitement, the bear cub loped after Richard, swatting playfully at the king's knees. Roberta watched them retreat for a few moments before she began striding back toward the castle. She hadn't gone far when she heard screams.

"Easy now, little one. EasYEEOOW!"

Unsheathing her blade, Roberta whirled on the spot. "Richard?!" she shouted as she sprinted along the path through the trees, frantically searching for her husband.

"Bobbi! Help!"

Diving off the path toward the shrieks, Roberta cut through the dense brush until she came to a small clearing. There, she slid to a stop, a gasp caught in her throat. "R-Richard?"

The king lay prone in the grass, his leggings badly ripped and bloody scratches over much of his exposed skin. Flying to her husband, Roberta skidded next to him, her eyes and hands darting over his body.

"Darling? Richard?! Are you alright?"

He didn't respond immediately. Roberta began prodding him harder, shaking his shoulders and tapping him on the face. "Richard! Stay with me!"

A soft groan escaped his lips as his eyelids fluttered. Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting up at his wife. "Oooh, my everything."

"What happened?" Roberta asked as she helped him sit up, one arm wrapped around his shoulders for support and the other's hand pressing a rag to a gash on his forehead.

"That cub stole my satchel!" he moaned, resting his head on Roberta's chest. "I turned my back on it for a moment to get my bearings, and then bam!" He slapped his free hand on his thigh. "It knocked me over and ran off with the rest of the chicken!" Staring off into the trees, he pouted. "And that was my favorite satchel."

Biting back a laugh, Roberta stood, pulling him gently up with her. "There, there, my love. Count yourself lucky all it took was your bag." She began leading him back toward the path. "Let's go home and get you into a nice warm bath, hmm?"

Nodding, Richard limped along after her, careful to avoid the pricklier bushes as they picked their way to the path.

"You know, I was wrong about bears."

"Oh?" Roberta answered, half-listening.

Richard continued, "They aren't made of kittens. They're tricky and sneaky and and selfish." He stopped, looking at his wife thoughtfully. "You know, I think they are actually related to weasels."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Bears are made out of kittens."


End file.
